


Foster

by milkcrust



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Season/Series 02, whoops accidental adoption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-08-14 02:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20184718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkcrust/pseuds/milkcrust
Summary: Children are hideous little creatures; terrible, taxing burdens. How has Lucifer ended up with one?





	1. A Child Walks Into a Bar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: This fic contains a child that has been abused and neglected. I'm keeping it as non-graphic as possible, and I'll probably never go into detail, but if I do I’ll be sure to leave a warning.
> 
> Chapter 1 takes place between the last episode of season 1 and the first episode of season 2.
> 
> This fic is un-beta’d, so any grammar mistakes or strange writing is my own.
> 
> Anyways, I’m super nervous to post this, hope you enjoy?

Lucifer needed a drink. Well, another drink. He had already drank everything in the penthouse. Which admittedly wasn’t much considering most of his liquor was on the floor from his little spat with his brother. Your mother escaping Hell - who was out to get you for allowing her to be tortured for millennia or at least wreaking divine havoc on the plane of existence you called home - would do that to you... the drinking part that is, although fighting was not entirely off the table. Not to mention making a deal with God on your dying breath to bring your murderous mother back to Hell, in exchange for…

Lucifer gazed into his empty glass, he really did need another drink. He rose from his chair and made his way to the lift, Lux’s bar it was.

Exiting the lift before the doors fully opened, Lucifer strode to the empty bar in the empty club and carefully selected a bottle of whiskey. Not everything in Lux’s bar was top shelf like his personal bar in the penthouse. He turned to retrieve a tumbler from under the bar and stopped in the middle of the motion.

Pressed up against the corner was a small, sleeping child. They were made even smaller by how tight they were curled up. Was it is his mum? He and Amenadiel had discussed finding what poor dead sod their mother was inhabiting. Then he’d left, claiming he needed to sleep and that they would start in the morning. Lazy arse. _ So _ perhaps this was a recently deceased child his mother was driving. But no, if it was his mum, she’d be doing something far worse than napping in a nightclub. So, if it wasn’t his her, there was no longer any reason the child should be in Lux.

They jerked awake when he cleared his throat. “If you haven’t noticed, this is a nightclub, your age group isn’t typically allowed in those, and certainly not in mine. Go back to… wherever you’re supposed to be.” He made a shooing motion with his hand too, in case the child didn’t understand speech yet. What he could see of their eyes behind their hair got suspiciously shiny, but they nodded after a moment. They began to slowly sit up, the motion shifting hair out of their face, revealing a large, fresh bruise.

Sobering, Lucifer felt himself stiffen. The bruise stood out in stark contrast with their - her too pale face. She wore an oversized, ragged hoodie despite the heat. Her movements too, were slow and stiff. His eyes threatened to turn, “Who hurt you, child?” They needed to be punished.

She froze, her body tense with her elbows pressed into her sides, making herself small again like he found her. She stayed like that long enough that Lucifer realized that she wasn’t going to directly tell him. He squatted down to be at eye level with her, “Look at me.” Her gaze shifted from the lines of bottles on the shelves to his eyes. “What is it you desire?” 

Her eyes glazed over and her jaw slackened (and oddly enough the usual reaction didn’t sit well with him this time), “I… I want to… get away from him.”

“Who? I need a name, child,” Lucifer prodded, but her eyes cleared and her jaw clenched tight. He dug his nails into his palms, frustrated. Well, if the child wasn’t going to tell him, she still obviously couldn’t go back. He stood, “Right. I’ve changed my mind. You may stay here,” he didn’t allow children in his home, but he would make an exception, “for the night.” He would figure out what to do with her in the morning.

She sighed, body relaxing for the first time he had seen her, “Thank you,” she whispered.

Lucifer paused for a moment at that, then waved a hand to brush it off, “Come along, can’t have you sleeping on the floor.” He moved towards the lift, the child close behind when he had glanced back at her, still moving stiffly.

They both entered and both stood in silence. Lucifer watched the child out of the corner of his eye on the ride up. She stared resolutely ahead, playing with the hem of her hoodie. The nervous gesture made him want to fidget with his own cuffs. The doors opened before he could.

He lead her to the couch and turned to face her, choosing to ignore her wide-eyed stare at the wreck that was his bar, “Stay here, I’ll be just a moment.” Then went to retrieve some spare bedding from his closet.

When he returned, he noticed that the child had not moved from where he had left her, but was staring at the piano instead of the bar, longing in her eyes. “Any requests?” he grinned and wiggled his fingers.

“Um…” she said, then fell silent.

His smile dropped. “Alright, think about it then and I’ll play for you in the morning,” he said as he made the couch. When he was finished, he stepped back and watched as the child’s eyes widened when she brushed a tiny hand over the plush blankets. Yes, just because they were spares didn’t mean they weren’t the same quality as the ones on his own bed, the same going for the down pillow. She hesitated, looking back and forth between him and the couch. “Well go on.” She immediately climbed onto what would be her bed for the night and tucked herself in, blankets wrapped tight around her.

Satisfied everything was taken care of, Lucifer headed for his own bed, no longer desiring alcohol.

“Um... goodnight,” she said after him.

He stopped in the doorway to his bedroom and looked over his shoulder at the child occupying his couch, “Good night, Child.”

* * *

Lucifer was woken up with such a blood-curdling scream that for a moment he believed he was back in Hell. But there were no screams from children in Hell. He was on Earth, with a living child on his couch, screaming. He leapt up. Was she being attacked? Was it his mum? Was it the wretched human that had hurt her? The screaming stopped by the time he reached the doorway and looked frantically around her. There was no one but the girl.

She sat with her arms around her knees, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. He felt an unfamiliar pressure in his chest (in addition to the pounding of his heart) at the sight that urged him to fix it. He stepped back into his bedroom for just long enough to put on his robe and was then beside the child in an instant. Then he found he was at a loss. What was it he was supposed to do? Comfort her? He didn’t know how to comfort children, or adults, or... anyone really. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, the pressure was turning into an ache that goaded him into action. Hesitantly, he reached out and patted her head, “There there.” He wasn’t sure if it would actually work, but she did stop crying... and looked at him with a very confused look that very clearly asked, _“What the hell was that?”_

“I’m the Devil, darling. I don’t do comfort,” he replied to her non-verbal question with a bit of a shaky smirk.

She blinked, her eyebrows drawing together, “The Devil?”

“Oh, right, I never introduced myself. Lucifer Morningstar.”

“You’re the Devil?” she sniffed, tears forgotten.

“Yes, as I’ve already said.”

She studied him for a moment, “Okay, prove it.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. My Devil Face tends to drive humans a bit mad.” She didn’t deserve that, she had already suffered enough. Besides, he was saving it for someone who truly did deserve it.

“So you can’t prove you’re the Devil,” she yawned, relaxing again.

“But I _ am _ the Devil.” Her eyes were beginning to close.

“I think you just have a funny name. My name’s Daisy, that’s a normal name,” she explained, yawning again.

“Yes, but it’s a very boring name isn’t it? _ Daisy _.” he scoffed, then froze. She had leaned on him, eyes fully closing. He fought the urge to scoot away. She looked too content there on his arm for him to risk waking her. So he stayed, and after a moment, he relaxed too. The small smile he had not consciously been aware of until it fell from his face dropped when he realized that he was now trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy guacamole did this chapter fight me tooth and nail. This mess took _forever_. You would not _believe_ how much editing and rewrites this chapter went through (a moment of silence for the hundreds of words that I scrapped). I felt like I was in my own personal hell loop. I forgot how hard writing is (I haven’t seriously written anything in _years_). And I realize this is kinda bad, but I had to stop at some point before I went absolutely insane. 
> 
> The game plan for this fic is to go through all of Season 2. For now everything is pretty loose but I do have certain Things I want to happen.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.


	2. Everything's Coming Up Daisies Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally another chapter! After almost exactly two months! Yikes!
> 
> I went back and edited chapter 1 a teeny bit ‘cause I when I was watching Lucifer with my mom, I realized that Amenadiel and Lucifer had fought in the season 1 finale and Lucifer had thrown Amenadiel into his glass bar, so that should still be broken.
> 
> Also, again, un-beta’d. Any grammar mistakes or strange writing is my own.

Amenadiel walked out of the elevator and came upon a strange sight. Lucifer was sleeping on the couch, which would be odd by itself, but he also had a child curled into his side. Didn’t Lucifer hate children? He moved in front of them, watching them sleep. Lucifer had his head leaned back against the couch, snoring softly. His arms hung loosely at his sides. Amenadiel rarely saw his brother so relaxed. The child using his brother’s arm as a pillow rather than the pillow next to her seemed content with the arrangement as well. Amenadiel shook himself. He had better things to do than watching Lucifer and a human child sleep (Lucifer would call him a “creep”), namely finding their mother, with his brother’s help.

“Luci,” He said, but neither stirred. “Luci!” Lucifer woke with a snort and the girl with a start. She grabbed onto his arm and stared at Amenadiel with wide eyes. Lucifer stiffened at the contact but made no move to move away. The girl seemed to notice his discomfort after a moment and let go of him, drawing the blankets around herself like a shield.

“Why aren’t you ready already? Need I remind you that our mother is loose on Earth.” The girl gave him a strange look at that.

Lucifer leaned his head back against the couch and groaned, “Remind me to never sleep on the couch again. Dreadfully uncomfortable.”

He sat there for a minute or so, Amenadiel impatiently staring at him, arms crossed, until Luci finally lifted his head, “Right. Let me get ready then and we’ll be off, no more need for your judge-y glare,” he said, mullish, then rolled forward off the couch onto his feet.

He started to amble towards his bathroom when a growl interrupted him. They both looked at the source, the girl shrinking under their gazes. “Hungry are we?” Lucifer smirked. She seemed to debate with herself, then slowly nodded. “What are you craving then? I’ll order anything you so desire, child.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Come on, you must have a preference.” She shrugged again. “Alright, suit yourself, Mexican it is. I find that I have a craving for it myself.”

Lucifer changed directions towards the wall phone. “We don’t have time for this, Lucifer.” His brother ignored him, picking up the phone and dialing a number without so much as a glance at Amenadiel, who only sighed, resigned. Lucifer hung up after ordering and resumed his journey to the bathroom, leaving Amenadiel alone with the child.

It was silent, except for the shower running in the other room, until she asked, “You’re Lucifer’s brother?” with just her face poking out of the many blankets wrapped around her. Luci may have gone a little overkill.

“Yes, I am,” he smiled at her, but instead of smiling back at him she frowned.

“So you think you’re an angel too?”

“No, I don’t,” he said, the lie rolling easily off his tongue. Humanity should not be mixed with celestial matters.

She continued to frown at him, making him distinctly uncomfortable.

Amenadiel was saved a few minutes later by the elevator doors opening, revealing a mildly confused looking delivery boy carrying what seemed like too much food for Lucifer and a small child. “Er,” he looked at the bathroom door then back at the acne-ridden boy, “just a moment.”

He went searching for Lucifer’s wallet, eventually finding it in the inner pocket of his discarded jacket in his bedroom. There seemed to be an absurd amount of cash inside of it, but he gave it all to the delivery boy anyways, unsure of how much that much food would cost. The boy unhurriedly put away the mobile phone he was looking at, glanced at the roll of cash, and shrugged, handing Amenadiel the plastic bags and moseying back to the elevator. The amount paid must have been sufficient.

Amenadiel was placing the bags on the bar top when Lucifer reappeared from the bathroom, hair freshly styled and eyeliner reapplied.

“Ah!” He strode over and started pulling out boxes out of the bags, sweeping away shards of glass with his arm, “What will it be, child? Tacos? Enchiladas? Any other Mexican dish you can imagine? I do believe I’ve ordered it all.” The girl shrugged again, but did crawl out from under her nest and wandered over towards the food, her stomach growling. Lucifer opened a few boxes, then seeming to make a decision for her, handed her one. She opened it, stared at the mountain of food as if in disbelief, then dug in with such gusto that Lucifer took a step back in shock.

When she finished, she sat up away from her box and looked longingly at the rest of them. Lucifer warily pushed another towards her. To the relief of both of them she ate the next one slower, though still guarding her food with arms on either side of the styrofoam container. Lucifer cast her a concerned look, then began to sneak away to his bedroom while she was still occupied with her food. The girl quickly spotted him and pushed a box in his direction. Lucifer held up his hands, “Oh, no, child. I think I’ve lost my appetite.” Then he scurried away (“I don’t _ scurry, _” Amenadiel could imagine Lucifer saying).

When Lucifer returned dressed in a suit, he began moving towards the piano, to Amenadiel’s exasperation. “Lucifer-”

“Oh hush brother, Mum can wait a few more.” Lucifer cut him off and sat on the bench, lifting the fallboard and posing his hands over the keys, “Now, what did you pick, child?” The girl shrugged. “Fine, I’ll pick for you, again.”

He played a piece Amenadiel didn’t recognize, fast and upbeat. And although Luci was ultimately wasting time, Amenadiel begrudgingly found that he was enjoying himself. He had always liked watching Lucifer play.

The girl slowly creeped over to the piano, eyes trained on Lucifer’s hands. She didn’t sit on the bench next to him but was very close to it, transfixed by the way Luci’s hands danced across the keys. He looked away from the keys and down at her, smirking, but with something almost soft in his eyes. He seemed to catch himself and turned back to the piano, finishing the song.

He closed the fallboard, “Well, child, was that to your satisfaction?” She nodded, then pointed at the keys,

“How does that work?”

Lucifer frowned, “Was that all you got out of that?” Although he didn’t sound truly offended. The girl startled,

“No! The song was really good!” Lucifer stared at her for just a moment, then made a show of preening.

“Of course it was. I have a God-given talent, you know. Would like to see how the keys work?” The girl nodded vigorously, but Amenadiel decided he had had enough and stepped in,

“_ Enough _ of this Luci, we need to find Mother.” The girl flinched at his tone.

Lucifer hesitated, then stood abruptly, grin dropping off of his face, “Right,” he said, straightening his jacket. He started to follow Amenadiel then stopped and turned, addressing the child, “I’ll… figure out what to do with you when I get back.” Lucifer looked almost regretful for a second, then spun back around and strode ahead of Amenadiel.

* * *

“Why is there a child in your penthouse?” Amenadiel asked half out of bewilderment and half to fill the awkward silence between them in the elevator.

“Oh the little ankle-biter wandered in and I couldn’t just send her back out into the streets, now could I?”

“Yes, you could have, you hate children.”

“Well, I was feeling charitable,” Lucifer hedged. Amenadiel sighed, he could tell that that wasn’t the real reason, and that his brother was going to be stubborn about giving it. But no matter the reason why his brother would take in a child, even presumably temporarily, he was obviously becoming fond.

The elevator fell silent again.

* * *

“That was a waste of time,” Amenadiel griped.

“Well, not entirely,” Lucifer grinned and held up the incompetent robber’s trousers for a second before tossing them away on the curb. “And besides, you have all the time in the world, don’t you?” Lucifer said as he patted his dour brother’s shoulder on the way past him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Lucifer waved him off, “Rain-check for the womanhunt?”

* * *

Lucifer weaved in and out of traffic, pondering why he was having the strange urge to check on the child. He was never one to not give into compulsions, but it was… odd that he would have the urge in the first place. He felt his heart racing in his chest at the thought of her alone. Was that concern? Surely nothing had happened...

* * *

His heart nearly stopped when the lift doors opened to his flat. The child was standing on the bench, lifting the lid of the piano. “What do you think you’re doing?” he nearly shouted. Then he swore his heart did stop for a moment when she dropped the lid and nearly smashed her fingers.

“I’m sorry!” She clumsily began to jump down from the bench. Lucifer made an aborted step forward to catch her before she face-planted, although what good would it have done from so far away, he didn’t know. Fortunately for her she landed on her feet, though barely, wincing at the landing.

“I’m sorry!” she repeated, “I won’t touch it again, I promise!” She was backed into the bench with her arms raised, as if she was expecting him to hit her. Lucifer felt frozen to the spot, taken off guard.

“It’s… fine, Child,” he said, feeling that odd emotion in his chest again from the previous night.

She tentatively lowered her arms and slid down onto the floor, eyes wet. Would he have to comfort her again? Patting her had worked before but by her expression it wasn’t what he was supposed to do, it may not work again... Ah! The Detective had a child and was a good mother, she would know.

He hurried over to the landline and dialed her number, he should really get one of those mobile phones one of these days. She answered after three rings. “Hello Detective!”

“_Hey, Lucifer. What’s- _”

“I need help.”

“_Okay. Where are you? Do I need to send the police? _” He could hear her voice shift into detective-mode, which would normally excite him in quite a pleasant way, but he had other things on his mind.

“I seem to have acquired a child and she’s very upset, what do I do?” She was silent for a long moment. “Detective?”

“_Yeah, sorry. You said you ‘acquired a child’?” _

He glanced over at said child, whose eyes were brimming with tears, “Yes, and the child is leaking, what do I do?”

“_Okay, I’m coming over. For now- _ ” She rattled off a list of what to do and promptly hung up.

Lucifer went back over to the girl, stood indecisively, then sat on the floor beside her, pride be damned.

Her tears had spilled over, running in lines down her cheeks. He hesitantly reached out and rubbed circles on her back, something the Detective had told him to do. They were choppy and uneven circles, the act of comfort wholly unfamiliar to him. It didn’t appear to be working, but the girl gave a small wobbly smile and said with an equally wobbly voice, “You’re not very good at this.”

Her smile immediately dropped, but before she could presumably apologize, Lucifer cut her off with a chuckle, “No, I’m not,” he removed his hand from her back and patted her head instead. Her smile returned, perhaps even a little bit bigger than it was before, the sight making him feel… warm.

A few minutes passed before her tears dried up, though she was still tense, upset. Perhaps he should try something else? And he was growing tired of sitting on the hard floor, it wasn’t a leap to assume she was too.

“Child.” She looked at him. “What do you say we have a look at the piano?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter/episode is gonna be split up into several parts ‘cause the draft was getting stupid long and I wanted to put out a chapter faster. So sorry about the delay, maybe the next chapter will be out sooner?? I do have a good chunk of it roughed out, so, fingers crossed.


End file.
